


Fooled around and fell in love.

by wovlesin



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, Drawing, Fluff, Idiots in Love, John Marston is pretty, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-03-29 15:35:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19022818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wovlesin/pseuds/wovlesin
Summary: Wants to grab at John anywhere he can, claw the wall of uncertainty between them down.Yearns to feel the warmth, the comfort John has to offer so willingly.





	Fooled around and fell in love.

**Author's Note:**

> All mistakes are my own; feel free to critique or point them out. 
> 
> This is v soft, I miss these boys.  
> Also sorry if this is too dramatic or something; emotions are weird. 
> 
> :-)

John huffs a breath of cold air. 

Arthur and himself are camped in the Grizzles somewhere, he doesn’t know. 

John doesn’t care too much either, his whole brain has gone blank. 

The night sky capturing his attention, stars scattered like freckles on a body.

Hues of midnight blue and black mix together peacefully, almost like a painting. 

The moon shines softly, merely  affecting the area. 

John’s laying in the grass near the fire, orange flames illuminate his face gently. 

Arthur’s deep in his journal, John’s not sure what he’s writing about or drawing; he knows not to ask. 

The sounds of the fire crackling blends with the sounds of Arthur’s pencil drifting across the page. 

It’s comfortable. The silence between them lacks the need to be filled with words or stories. 

John looks towards Arthur.

Arthurs busy moving his pencil in an up and down motion; focused. 

His tongue peaks through his lips, eyebrows furrowed. 

John smiles at the scene. 

Feels warmth flush through him. 

“What’re you drawin’?” John asks. 

Arthur looks up from his page, cocks an eyebrow at the question. 

“Why you wanna know?” Arthur replies humorously. 

“Ain’t much to draw out here, unless yer’ drawin’ the sky without lookin’ at it.” John says whilst chuckling softly. 

Arthur shrugs.

”Just somethin’ pretty.” He replies. 

John tilts his head curiously. 

“Can I take a look?” He risks the question.

Arthur sighs, only slightly holding annoyance.

Stands from his place on the ground, moves towards John’s patch of grass.

Arthur plants himself next to John, let’s himself lay next to him. 

“Drawin’ you.” Arthur says, handing John his journal. 

Arthur’s stomach knots at his own words, insecurity ripples through him. 

Meanwhile, John swears he’s never heard a voice so sweet, borderline intoxicating. 

He takes the journal gently, handling it with care. 

Upon the page is a sketch of John in the position he was a few moments ago; resting on his back, eyes looking at the sky. 

Arthur somehow did it perfectly. The way his pencil strokes deepen to highlight his features, light strokes decorate the horizon; trees and mountains splayed. 

The word “Johnny” is scribbled just beneath the drawing. 

John laughs, shocked. 

“You said somethin’ pretty.” John manages to say, confusion flavors his words. 

Arthur hums an agreement.

”Yep, and I weren’t lying.” He replies, voice quiet yet confident. 

John makes a soft ‘huh’ at his words. 

He’s never thought himself pretty. 

The compliment usually used towards femininity; not masculinity. 

Yet, John blushes when Arthur calls him it, that warmth spreads through him again. 

“You think I’m pretty?” John dares, looking at Arthur.

Beside him Arthur laughs, his eyes to the sky. 

John smiles at the sound. 

He’s always loved Arthur’s laugh. 

Loves how it rumbles in Arthur’s throat, gruff yet mellow all at once. 

A sign of amusement, happiness even, something Arthur so dearly deserves.

”Yes, Marston. I think yer’ pretty.” Arthur replies, chuckling through the words.

John hums, closing the journal. 

He folds his hands atop his stomach. 

Doesn’t quite know how to feel.

They’ve have always been cautious around one another.

Scared to overstep invisible boundaries.

They’d gotten close a few times, stared too long or spoke too fondly of each other.

But never been bold enough to approach these topics.

Arthur always seemed to be annoyed with John. 

Either pushed him off or gave him a hard time. 

But he also held a fondness for him.

Fondness only John got to see, luckily. 

John clears his throat. 

Arthur looks towards John.

”Doesn’t bother you, do it?” He asks, worry holds in his voice.

”No, ‘course not.” John replies, voice hesitant.  

Arthur turns to look at the stars again. 

He nods once, acknowledging John’s reassurance. 

John takes a deep breath.

”I appreciate it, Arthur.” John says sincerely.

Arthur sighs softly, his hands twitch.

They burn, a pin and needles sensation, he wants to grab John’s hand beside him. 

Wants to hold it tightly in his own, wants to drag them along John’s body. 

He wants to show John his surrender.

Show him how easily John grips his heart. 

How he’s only so comfortable around him. 

Wants to grab at John anywhere he can, claw the wall of uncertainty between them down. 

Yearns to feel the warmth, the comfort John has to offer so willingly. 

Emotions so raw they’d still be bleeding.

”I draw you ‘lot, actually.” Arthur whispers without thinking. 

John looks at Arthur, an eyebrow raised.

”Think yer’... pleasing to look at.” He continues cautiously. 

John grins, the praise comforts him. 

“Didn’t know you drew so much, I would’a posed more!” John jokes, nudging Arthur’s side with his elbow. 

Arthur snorts, a shade of red coating his cheeks.  

John finds himself turning his body, facing Arthur’s. 

Arthur turns his head to look at John, smiles softly. 

And for a moment, John thinks he’s in heaven.

How Arthur’s eyes look against the fires hue. 

How Arthur is looking at him. 

His brain is only on Arthur.

_His beard, his lips, his hair, his voice, his smile. Arthur. Arthur. Arthur._

These boundaries they’d set suddenly seem irrational.

John decides to break them.

He kisses Arthur. 

The kiss is soft, holding nothing but tenderness. 

An ‘I love you.’ said without words. 

A form of affection John’s craved since he laid eyes on Arthur. 

John pours his heart into it, hands on either side of Arthur’s face, holding him close. 

He feels Arthur’s hand brush against his cheek, thumb resting atop his cheekbone.

They both know it’s dangerous, know it’s crazy to expect this to work out. 

The lives they live are dangerous, a bullet to the head is a possible day away.

A life of running, risks of nooses taunting them.  

But John doesn’t care right now.

All he can focus on his the way Arthur’s lips move with his, the way his thumb is slowly stroking his cheek. 

All he can feel is relief flood throughout his body, his fingertips tingling. 

John let’s all his hunger into the kiss, the desperation he’s held onto for years. 

Let’s himself surrender to Arthur like he’s always wanted. 

They pull away to breathe, panting roughly.

Their eyes meet, John’s eyes teary.

Arthurs eyes hold emotion; understanding, almost saying ‘finally.’ 

They’re both speechless, not quite knowing what to say

His emotions are overflowing, like a disaster happened within his body. 

Arthur smiles, his thumb still softly stroking John’s cheek. 

“You’re an idiot, ya know that, Marston?” Arthur says with no bite. 

John nods, chuckling as tears steam down his face. 

Tears of relief, from years of guilt and anger, countless nights of dreams of Arthur’s body against his. 

John plants his forehead against Arthur’s, closes his eyes. 

Arthur leans into the touch, grasps John’s  own hand with his free one. 

They sit there together, listening to one another’s breathing and the area around them. 

John doesn’t know what this means for either of them.

Yet he’s content with just this. 


End file.
